Weeks fly by, but years go quicker,
and I sure wish my skin was thicker,
I sure wish, to even out
the bumps and bruises of this world,
that I knew what to do without
these silly rhymes, this lulling liquor.
Gotta fear that devilish snout,
the hole where all the hate comes out,
gotta fear what's behind the door,
where pain and fury constantly
dance together, fuck and roar,
to birth a child that we just kinda buried.
To burn wild, forever deadly married.
To punch and pound the pillars
of this place where we were born.
To resurrect the dead we never mourn.
Look at me rant, so full and pale,
not sure about what tale to tell.
the story's always there, you see,
it's circling us constantly,
and here I am, an absentee,
throwing coins inside a wishing well,
to conserve a child that never had to worry.
To burn wild in my assigned territory.
To pinch and pat the pillars
of the place where I was born,
to become one of the dead that noone mourns.